When I was a child I wanted to be an artist and a writer. Sometimes for Christmas I would get a diary, one of those special books with a small lock and key so that you could lock away your thoughts and feelings and keep them hidden. Every year I would try to keep a regular diary because I knew this was the sort of thing that writers and artists do, and by the end of the year there would be a few pages at the begining filled with writing about nothing much, followed by pristine white space.
Nothing much happened when I was a child. This space now seems very much like one of those books, but I will try and keep it up to date. Click on the links on the left to follow and see if there are any exciting adventures to be had as a grown up.
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